


The Bet

by frozensight



Category: Battle Creek (TV)
Genre: M/M, Translation Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensight/pseuds/frozensight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes friendly bets get a little out of hand, and sometimes that's not a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bet

The bet begins when Font says that Russ can't stand Milt touching him for more than ten seconds. 

Jacocks chimes in, "He can last more than ten seconds, but I think around twenty he'd get an aneurysm." 

Thirty, then Russ punches him in the face," inserts Funkhauser with a grin.

Russ appreciates their confidence in him,  _really_.

It's not surprising when the betting pool starts, that Russ expects because he's still looking to win the one about Funkhauser and Shailene getting married. What does surprise him is when Guziewicz throws her bid in behind Russ letting Milt touch him for one minute straight, with no repercussions.

"What?" she asks when he confronts her, "I'm a high stakes kind of gal."

Sometimes he hates everyone at the office except Holly--who politely declines to participate, and because Russ could never hate her.

Naturally, Milt eventually finds out.

"A bet?" He's standing in the middle of the office, his arms crossed as if that plus his furrowed brow will help him figure it out without more information.

"Yeah just a silly game, really, to test and see how long Russ can handle you in his personal space--will he endure it or flinch away?" Niblet chuckles to himself, but then again he hasn't put up any money so to him it  _is_ just a game.

"Interesting," mutters Milt, his eyes landing on Russ, watching him.

"No, it's  _ridiculous_." Russ swivels around in his chair to face his computer so that he can pretend this whole thing isn't happening. "Honestly, you'd think we didn't have work to do."

"Russ is right; there's work to be done." Milt pauses and Russ instinctively knows he's gonna hate what comes next. "However, I know I can get Russ to stand my touch for longer than a minute."

"How much you willing to risk on that, Agent?" Font asks, and Russ is seconds away from slamming his head onto his keyboard.

Milt thinks for a moment before replying, "One hundred dollars."

Funkhauser whistles, Jacocks raises her eyebrows, and Font drops his baseball bat on his foot. Russ spins his chair back around, glaring at the room, but specifically Milt.

"You're  _really_ gonna join in on this stupid charade?"

He shrugs, hands in the pockets of his dumb tailored suit. "Why not? I have a sure way of succeeding."

"Oh really?"

Milt has the nerve to grin at Russ. "Really. Come over here, and we can solve this whole mystery now."

Russ has no intentions of obeying, but everyone in the squad room starts catcalling him and Holly smiles at him from across the room. Russ thinks,  _'Fine. What could possibly go wrong?_ ' as he stands up and walks over to Milt, stopping right in front of him.

"What's your big plan, Mr. Chamberlain?"

Milt smiles at him, their eyes locked, as he ignores Russ' question and asks, "Ready to time it, Font?"

"Ready."

He wants to ask if they're going to countdown to it, if Milt honestly thinks he'll be keeping his hundred bucks because Russ doesn't see how anyone but Font will come out topside. However, Russ' brain shortcircuits the moment that Milt's lips are on his instead of the expected hand on his shoulder or arm.

His first reaction is to jerk away, wipe his mouth, and yell before storming out of the office. That lasts for barely a few seconds before it registers that Milt's a really good kisser, and it's been longer than Russ cares to admit since he's had a really nice kiss. Milt's got one hand hovering by Russ' cheek and another faintly touching his arm, and Russ really hopes that soft whine isn't him reacting to Milt tilting his head just enough to imply that a deeper kiss waits for Russ, if only he asks, because that would be embarrassing and they're still in the middle of the office.

Russ jumps back, mouth slightly open and staring at Milt, who looks like a cat who's eaten a dozen canaries. The surrounding detectives are cheering, and distantly Russ registers Font's cry of 'fifty seconds!' He can't take his eyes off Milt though, and it's scaring him a little that if it wasn't for their co-workers being present, Russ would probably be right up against Milt, kissing him back. Somehow, Milt seems to catch this from whatever expression is on Russ' face, and he becomes less smug and more curious.

"Guess Guz wins the bet," croaks Russ, hands clenched at his side, eyes still on Milt for a couple more seconds before he spins on his heel and goes back to his desk.

"But Guz said a minute, not fifty seconds!" protests Funkhauser.

"Round up; she's the closest one to the actual time," replies Russ as he grips a pen and pretends his hand is shaking from something familiar like anger rather than nerves. "All you idiots who placed money, pay up." 

There's grumbling from behind him, but there's also the rustling of wallets as people get out what they owe and presumably hand it to Guziewicz who's standing triumphant in her office doorway. He's so focused on trying to return to his paperwork, that he flinches when a hand lands on his shoulder. Russ looks up, eyebrow raising when it's Guziewicz standing there, and she wordlessly tosses the bet winnings onto his desk.

"For being a good sport," is all she says before she walks away, and as Russ counts it, he can't help but notice that she seems to have taken a twenty dollar collector's fee and that Milt's $100 is crisp and new.

Gradually everyone goes back to work, though glances are sent Russ' way for the rest of the day, up until he clocks out at exactly 5pm. He doesn't mean to lock eyes with Milt as he leaves the building, but he does. The memory of them kissing surges back, and Russ all but bolts out of the building to his car.

The next day will be better, Russ reasons with himself, because everyone will have had time to get over the bet, and he can pretend that he hadn't been seconds away from making out with Special Agent Data the Android in the middle of the bullpen.

This is all easier said than done, as Russ finds out when he walks into the office that morning. Not that anyone says anything, but he can see it in their faces that they're curious. Font raises his eyebrow at him when he sits down, and Jacocks keeps smirking at him from her desk. He's actually grateful when Guziewicz hands him a case and orders him to take Milt with him, even though on his way out, Holly gives him a smile and a thumbs up. Russ shakes it off, walking into the FBI office across the hall just long enough to meet Milt's eyes and yell, "Got a case. Meet you at my car."

He doesn't stick around to hear Milt's reply, and instead heads back out to his car to wait for him. Milt comes out about a minute later, and Russ opens up the driver's side door and gets in without saying anything. Following suit, Milt slides in, taking the case file when Russ hands it over in favor of persuading his ol'rustbucket to start up.

"So we're just going to forget yesterday ever happened, then?" asks Milt nonchalantly, flipping through the pages and skimming over the information.

Russ' hand slips, but thankfully his car starts so it looked like it was on purpose. "Don't see why we should remember it, so yeah, that's the plan."

Milt snorts, but doesn't say anything else on the matter, instead changing the subject to the case, and Russ assumes that that's that. He really does forget about the whole affair, that is, until after the case is solved a week later and Milt shows up at his apartment on a Saturday evening without warning.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Russ blocks the door, eyes narrowed.

"Just wanted to check up on you, see how you were doing."

He raises an eyebrow. "Why? I'm fine. I wasn't even punched this week. Karma must be on vacation or something."

That makes Milt laugh, and Russ finds himself grinning before he can school his expression back into a frown. Milt tilts his head to the side, smile on his face. "I wasn't asking if you were okay, physically, Russ. I want to know how you're dealing with our kiss."

_Oh._  Russ rolls his eyes and tries to act like he's relaxing even though he's gripping the doorknob more tightly. "How I'm dealing with us kissing? I'd forgotten it'd even happened, Chamberlain. Not to mention I'm a grown man, and can handle a little platonic kissing."

Milt nods, and Russ swears he takes a step closer. "I just wanted to make sure that everything was good between us. I'd hate for something to ruin our partnership."

Russ can't help but laugh. "If anything ruins that, I promise it'll be your secrets, not my inability to deal with you being a good kisser."

"So you think I'm a good kisser?" Milt's leaning against the door frame, inches away from Russ' face, and suddenly Russ knows why Milt is actually at his door.

"I plead the fifth," he replies, backing up a little to put some distance between them. "Now, I think my dinner is getting cold, so now that we've established I'm fine with everything, I'm gonna have to say goodnight."

"Wait!" Milt's hand lands on the door as Russ tries to shut it, and against Russ' better judgment, he keeps it open.

"Yes, Agent Chamberlain?"

Milt sighs, running a hand through his normally coiffed hair. "What if.... _I'm_  not okay with forgetting?"

He blinks, letting that sink in, and then Russ repeats, "You're...not okay with forgetting."

"No, I'm not."

Their eyes meet, and Russ isn't quite sure what to make of the intense expression Milt is leveling him with. "Then what  _do_ you want to do about it?"

"Ideally?" Milt steps closer again, and this time Russ doesn't move. "I'd like to pick up where we left off...that is if you're open to it."

"Are you...are you asking me if we can _make out_?"

"I knew there was a reason why you're one of the best detectives in Battle Creek," comments Milt dryly. "Yes, Russell, I'm asking if we can make out."

Russ is stunned, more at the bluntness of Milt's request than that he made it at all. He thinks back to the kiss from a week ago, how he'd managed to mostly forget about it--he'd had a couple dreams, okay--but Milt couldn't. He steps aside, giving Milt room to enter his apartment, before walking away from the door. "You wanna come in? Come in. I wasn't kidding about dinner, but I should have enough for you too if you haven't eaten yet." The door shuts just as Russ enters his kitchen, and he smiles to himself as he sets about fixing two plates of mac and cheese, with a side of fishsticks. "That is, if you're capable of eating things that come from a box and the freezer."

Milt's voice gradually gets closer as he replies, "It's not preferable, but food is food."

"Good," Russ says as he holds out a second plate to Milt when he rounds the corner. He winks before he adds, "I'm all about quick and easy."

"Not too quick, I hope," counters Milt, grinning, and Russ snorts as he turns on his tv and starts eating. He can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, Milt's worth getting to know outside of his deep dark secrets.

"Just shut up and eat, pretty boy."

If anything, Russ muses, it's going to be a lot more fun learning things now.

**Author's Note:**

> I realized while finishing this that I seem to always wind up with them eating meals together and watching tv? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyway, they probably don't actually finish dinner, but rather get distracted somehow and end up making out on the couch until Russ complains about his back. Mocking and massages are then involved. The end.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [赌局 The Bet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3930625) by [frozensight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensight/pseuds/frozensight), [itssogay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itssogay/pseuds/itssogay)




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